Welsh wonders
Ruth Miller of The Biggest Twitch reveals her passion for birdwatching in her home region of North Wales
There’s no place quite like home, says Ruth Miller
April, May and June are arguably the most exciting months to be a birdwatcher in the Northern Hemisphere. It’s the season when our resident birds are boosted by migrant species who have overwintered further south, and wherever you look there are signs of preparation for the next generation. Territories are being claimed, mates are being sought and for the early breeders, the relentless search for food for hungry chicks has already begun. It’s tempting to jump on a plane to explore exciting European destinations for high-octane spring birdwatching but why, when there’s so much to enjoy closer to home? And home for me is North Wales. I may be slightly biased, but I can’t think of many other parts of the British Isles where you can experience such a wide variety of different habitats and species within a very manageable area. Where else can you be watching mountain specialists, such as Ring Ouzel, in one location, and Puffins in a busy seabird colony in another, with breeding Redstarts in hanging woodlands in-between, and all just an hour’s drive from home? With an early start, I can be up on the wild heather moors before dawn. Stopping the car in the darkness to listen, I can hear a weird bubbling call interspersed with sharp hisses, and as the daylight starts to appear, I see white blobs dotted over a patch of open ground. The visibility improves, revealing some 20 birds gathered here in ones and twos: Black Grouse! Black and dark blue all over, red combs above their eyes, with black lyre-shaped tails held high and a wonderful white dahlia-like unfolding of their undertail coverts displayed behind, these male Black Grouse are practising their dance moves for the lek. They fence forwards and backwards with one another, testing each other’s mettle without coming to blows, and strutting about on sturdy legs like crazed chickens. As the sun rises, a shaft of light spreads over their lekking ground. Light enough to take a photo, perhaps? But no! Like vampires seeking shadows, that beam of sunshine is the cue for the Black Grouse to fly off on a whirr of wings as they vanish across the moor.
Mystical woods
Heading south from home along the River Conwy, looking for Dipper, Kingfisher and Goosander on the way, I soon reach the ancient oak woodlands of Snowdonia National Park. The contorted branches of the trees are clad in dense moss and lichen that bear testimony to the clean, damp atmosphere of our Celtic rainforest. Arriving early morning, I’m surrounded by birdsong as I explore these mystical upland woodlands for some special breeding birds. I spot movement as a Redstart, such a handsome bird, swoops onto a low branch while a dapper male
Pied Flycatcher sings high up above his nest-hole. As the season progresses, I come back to listen for the distinctive ‘spinning coin’ song of a Wood Warbler and am rewarded with a view of this bright little warbler blending in among the lime-green leaves. Tree Pipits display in open glades and their delicate ‘pew-pewpew’ trill lifts the spirits as the bird performs its descending display flight. The mountains of Snowdonia themselves are a dramatic, craggy backdrop to your birdwatching. I love the challenge of scanning the rocky buttresses here for one species in particular: Ring Ouzel. A cross between a Blackbird and a vicar, this smart black bird with a white collar is a shy mountain specialist, preferring the higher elevations well away from human disturbance. But my persistent scanning with binoculars and telescope is often rewarded with the sight of this distinctive bird, sometimes perched on the very tip of a peak, while its plaintive song wafts down to me on the breeze. An hour west from my home, I can be enjoying a completely different bird spectacle at South Stack RSPB nature reserve. Not for the fainthearted, the coastal path here clings to the edge of the sheer cliffs, pounded at their base by the harsh waves of the Irish Sea. Windy conditions along the clifftops are perfect for charismatic Choughs, and I watch their antics with admiration as they play in the turbulent air, before folding their wings to plummet down onto the short grassland, where they strut about, probing energetically for insects.
Drawn by seabirds
But as spring moves into summer, it is the frenetic seabird colony here that draws me. Squeezed cheek-by-jowl, hundreds of raise their chicks on vertiginous rock ledges, bickering and arguing as they squash in next to their neighbours; Razorbill pairs cuddle up in secluded corners; Kittiwakes perch like tea cosies on nests hard up against the vertical cliffs; Fulmars wheel and soar on stiff, outstretched wings; while Puffins arrive in a whirr of wings before diving headlong into their grassy burrows. And this bustling scene is observed by a female Peregrine on the lookout for an unwary bird to feed her own growing brood nearby. The noise and smell assault my senses, a world away from the calm grandeur of the stately mountains, or the green seclusion of the oak woodlands. These are just some of my birdwatching highlights and I know I’m lucky to have this variety right on my doorstep. There are plenty of exciting birds to see all year round, but at this time of year, the birdwatching in North Wales is simply outstanding and I never want these precious months to end. Come and see it for yourself. Don’t believe what they say, there’s a lot more to North Wales than just sheep and rainy days!
Ring Ouzel. A cross between a Blackbird and a vicar, this smart black bird with a white collar is a shy mountain specialist